The Broken Tree
by Grace Tempest
Summary: They were shattered but they were not beyond repair.
1. Chapter One

_November, 1916 _

Belfast was a far cry from London, and their meager flat was universally different from anything she was used to at Downton, not even the lowliest of staff lived in these conditions. And yet, she couldn't force herself to regret the decision. Her marriage to Tom, their love, their life together was the only thing that was really, truly hers. Sure she had her politics, in fact she had recently joined the Ulster Suffragette movement (something Tom was particularly proud of) but even that couldn't keep her busy enough not to miss him now that he was gone to France.

As she made her way down the row of dour homes, she ran her ungloved fingers against the cold metal railings. It no longer surprised her how adulterated Belfast was by English industry; the whole city seemed bereft of color and any sort of joy. She shivered and not from the cold but from the tension that lingered in the air, every day another bout of horror stories came out of Dublin, in made her tremble to think about what would occur once the political turmoil in Dublin boiled over. That was one of the reasons Tom and she had chosen Belfast over Dublin there was a bit more tolerance for people like her and jobs, cheap factory jobs, but jobs none the less. She had been hired as a private teacher for an English family, for that was the only thing was qualified, although she had no idea what she would do once the baby came.

Sibyl rounded the corner and walked into the post office, silently hoping and praying there's a letter from her husband. Connors the postman immediately recognized her and handed her a fragile looking letter on delicate stationary that definitely was not army regimented. As soon as she read the address she began to shake violently, almost dropping the letter.

"Mrs. Branson?" Connors pulled her back into reality.

"Are you alright? You looking awful pale." She looked up at him for a moment then back down at the letter in her hand. "Everything is fine Mr. Connors, thank you for your concern." She waved at him as she rushed home as fast as she could possibly go in her condition. At the door she fumbled with the keys for a moment before finally thrusting the door open.

_Sibyl, _

No dear or any acknowledgement of any familial relationship.

_It has been almost two years since you left Downton and it is high time you came home and accept responsibility for your actions. Matthew has asked me to write you and extend an invitation to celebrate Christmas with us at Crawley house. Mrs. Crawley will be simply delighted to see you again, she always did enjoy your company. If you need money for the journey please send a telegraph or write. _

_Sincerely, _

_ Mary Crawley. _

Sibyl's cheeks reddened with embarrassment, insulted over Mary's insinuation that she was living in poverty. Although it wasn't surprising, Mary considered anyone who had to work to make a living, impoverished. Reading Mary's letter certainly did not make her want to ever go back to Downton but she also couldn't bear the thought of being alone on Christmas. Perhaps it would be a good idea for her to visit her family and smooth things; she wanted her child to be surrounded by the same love she had growing up. She knew that they might not be able to forgive her for her act of desperation; however they certainly could not blame an innocent child for its parent's sins.

So she resolved to go. The decision was not easy for her but she knew it had to be done; she so desperately missed her family.


	2. Chapter Two

_My Dearest Tom, _

_I miss you so desperately! I can hardly believe it's been almost five months since you left. I do hope you're doing well, darling. I cannot stand the thought of you suffering in battle or in those awful, godforsaken trenches. I felt the baby kick this morning! I was so wonderful and exhilarating and I thought of you when it happened. I cannot wait until the day this war is over and you can come home and meet our child. On a different note, Mary wrote yesterday and asked me to spend Christmas with her and Matthew at the Crawley House and I think I am going to go. I hope you won't be upset about this Tom, I only want the baby to have a chance to know my family to and that won't happen if we are not on speaking terms. I am so sorry this letter must be so short but I'll be sure to write again once I come home from work. Oh Tom, I love you so very much, please keep safe my dearest. _

_With all my love,_

_ Sibyl Branson_

_My loving wife, _

_Sibyl of course you should go see your family, I know how much you miss them sweetheart. I hate the thought of you so alone in our flat, especially during Christmas. I would never wish to deny you your family, love. Dear God I miss you Sibyl, I miss everything about you. This war will be over soon, I promise you and then we can finally be a real family again. I have to go now, my love but I'll try my best to keep safe for you as long as you do the same for me. If I don't have the chance to write again, Happy Christmas sweetheart, I love you. _

_Love always, _

_Tom Branson._

Sibyl ran her hands across the page for the hundredth time that day; she could almost hear the emotions in his writing. No matter how many times she read the letter it made her heart constrict and her stomach clench, which naturally made the baby rather unhappy. She placed a loving hand on her stomach as she watched trees rush by and she finally began recognizing the scenery of her childhood; the rolling hills, the open fields and finally the house she did so miss. She missed the library and her room; she missed Anna, Carson and Mrs. Hughes, she missed the secret meetings with Tom and every stolen kiss they shared.

But most of all she missed her family. She felt hot tears spill out of her eyes as she pulled her wool jacket a little closer to her body. Finally the train pulled into the station is Ripon; she wiped her face with her handkerchief, grabbed her suitcase and departed.

It didn't take her long to walk to Crawley House; however it did take her a while to build up the courage to walk to the front door. It had been so long, nearly two years since she had left this all behind to elope with the man this society would never let her be with. She stared up at the at the house, she had never realized how daunting it looked until this moment. She felt so very small and insignificant in comparison.

She bunched her hand into a tight fist and gently knocked on the door. Expectantly Mosley answered the door with his usual politeness but Sibyl could see the shocked glimmer in his eyes, certainly he and the rest of the staff knew about the fallout between her and the rest of the family. After a brief pause Mosley composed himself "Please step into the drawing room Ms- " There was another pause as he struggled with what to address her as, she undoubtedly wasn't a lady anymore but he was unsure if she had actually married that boy Brandon or perhaps it was Brennan, he couldn't recall.

"Mrs. Branson." She replied quietly.

"Right Mrs. Branson, this way please." As if she had never been in the house before. She waited in the drawing room as Mosley went to fetch his mistress.

"Sibyl? Is that you darling?" Isobel's voice fluttered through the room and instantly warmed it. She turned and quickly ambled over to her. Isobel caught her in a motherly hug. "Of Sibyl look at you, you look absolutely radiant!" It was only partially true, her eyes were red from crying, her hair was disheveled under her cloche, and her clothes were thin and worn. But in her eyes Isobel Crawley could still see the girlish glimmer that had not yet left her and there was no weariness in her face, Isobel could see that Sibyl was happy with her new life of freedom with Tom, propriety be damned.

All too soon Sibyl could hear high heels descending the staircase and she knew it was time for her to face the first of her many demons.

"Hello Mary"


	3. Chapter Three

The only sound that could be heard was the ceaseless sounds of utensils scraping against fine china. Isobel had earlier tried to instigate light conversation but it had soon fallen flat and the dining room and its occupants were drawn into a deep uncomfortable silence, no one daring to be the first to speak.

"So Sibyl, when is your baby due?" Isobel ardently tried to alleviate some of the tension in the air. Sibyl smiled tenderly, despite the circumstances.

"In the beginning of February, so I'm told." Isobel clapped her hands together jovially, "Well that's just wonderful! It will be magnificent to have a child around the estate!"

As soon as the words left her mouth Isobel knew she had successfully compromised the conversation. Instantaneously Mary stood, threw her napkin across the room- in an uncharacteristic display of unladylike behavior and stormed away. Isobel Crawley buried her face in her hands, she was in disbelief over the foolish and unseemly comment she had just made. "I'm so sorry!" she chocked out, knowing not who she was apologizing to as neither Mary nor Matthew was there to hear her remorse.

Sibyl shuffled up the stairwell as swiftly as her increasingly expanding body would allow her to go. She gently put her ear to the door and was about to knock, when she heard one the most disturbing sounds: Mary weeping. It was a rare thing indeed to hear the eldest Crawley daughter cry, the only time Sibyl could remember her crying was when their grandfather died and even then it was nothing compare to the sounds she was hearing now. "Mary?" she knocked delicately, trying to cause as little disturbance as possible.

She could hear sounds of her sister trying to make herself presentable once more. "I'm in no mood Sibyl, please go away." When she was younger she would have let her alone, but marriage had made her assiduous, so she knocked again.

"Mary I refuse to leave until you talk to me!" Mary delayed a few moments more, brooding over whether or not she should let Sibyl in. Finally relenting she opened the bedroom door. "Yes?" was her brusque response. "I wanted to make sure you were okay." Sibyl reached her hand out for Mary's, who in turn yanked it away from her sister's comforting touch.

"No, you wanted to know why I left so abruptly at dinner." Her brown eyes bore into Sibyl's blue. "Fair enough Mary." Right as she said the words, the baby gave her a rather punitive kick in the ribs; she cried out and clutched her stomach. "I'm fine; he has a very strong punch! He'll probably be a hurler like his father!" she sighed, lovingly. At that moment Sibyl caught an unguarded look of worry and longing in Mary's eyes and suddenly understood her sister's reaction at Isobel's innocent comment.

"Oh Mary!" she cried compassionately. "I'm so sorry! I didn't even imagine that the-"but Mary cut her off before she went on. "No! I don't need sympathy and especially from you!" she said the word like an accusation. Sibyl was saddened, she thought for a moment that Mary would leave aside her contentious nature and talk to her but instead she put her guard up again.

"I cannot believe this! I've done everything right!" she shrieked, "I married the man I was told to, who was well off and loved me in addition to saving the Abbey!" she glared at the ceiling above her, before she spoke again she resumed crying. "Is this about Kemal? Is this my retribution for one mistake? One…horrible…mistake!" Sibyl tried to take a step toward her sister but she whipped around, anticipating her action. "And you! You did everything wrong! You blatantly disobeyed father's orders! You ran away! You eloped with a servant for godsake!" spitting out "servant" as if it were a slur. Instead of fighting back like Mary wanted her to, Sibyl stood there and let Mary deposit twenty-five years of grief and bitterness.


	4. Chapter Four

**AN: Thank you to my awesome reviewers! Also be warned this chapter has sexual situations. **

"Did you bring me here just so you could abuse me?" Sibyl demanded later on after Mary had calmed from her episode. "For it seems to be the only thing you've done all day. Why did you invite me to Christmas Mary? So you could show me what I'm missing? No thank you, if this is what I'm up against I'll be on the next boat to Belfast!" She clutched her ferry ticket tightly in her left pocket.

Mary exhaled sharply, "I already told you," she said crossly. "it was Matthew's idea from the start. He heard that Branson was shipped to France and _he_," she exaggerated the word. "didn't want you to be alone in Belfast. What, with that happened last April! You may be an Irishman's wife, but you were still born a Crawley!"

"Do Mother and Father know I'm here?"

"Yes, however they weren't too keen on the idea of your – husband, being here as well. I believe Father's exact words were 'disreputable bastard that ruined my daughter'" She recounted. Sibyl flushed, "Stop it! Stop talking about Tom that way! He's a good man!"

"Do good men often steal Earl's daughters away, elope with them, then ferry them off to a war zone and impregnate them there? I was completely unaware that's what qualifies a 'good man'." Sarcasm flowed freely from her lips; Mary was fluent in the tongue of cynicism.

"He's a good man Mary; you're just too biased to give him a sporting chance."

Mary chortled sardonically but said nothing. Once more a stern silence filled the air, "I think I'll go to bed then." Sibyl murmured stepping out of the room before Mary could slight her anymore.

X X X

"_I can't believe we're actually married!" Sibyl giggled excitedly. Tom flashed a brilliant smile "Me either, love! I can't wait to see the look me brother's face when he sees I've brought home a proper British lady as my wife!" He leaned over a kissed her cheek, only to see a forlorn look on Sibyls face before she quickly masked. "What's wrong Sibyl? Do you regret getting married?" Sibyl stopped walking abruptly. "No, absolutely not Tom!" She exclaimed sternly. _

"_I know our life isn't going to be easy and I accept that, but I do hope that my family will come around." She trailed off slightly. _

_Tom reached down and entwined their fingers, "I wish it hadn't come to this, please understand I never intended for you to have to chose between me and your family." They had finally reached the stairs leading up to their flat. "I know Tom, I love you." She gave him a quick peck on the lips before climbing the stairs. _

_Three flights later they both nervously stood before the door while Tom awkwardly fumbled with the keys before finally getting the door open. It was then that it finally hit Sibyl that this was really happening. She and Tom were married, really truly married and tonight they would, well, he would-. _

_She couldn't finish her train of thought, it was much too embarrassing. She was suddenly filled with anxiety and fear about what would happen in the following hours. Her mother hadn't deemed it necessary to tell her about what happened on a wedding night just yet, Cora was waiting until Sibyl became engaged to tell about that part of marriage. She had only heard bits and pieces from friends that had gotten married early, things such as, it was quite painful (especially the first few times), there would be some bleeding and that men often didn't care about their young brides underneath them, they just wanted to enjoy themselves. _

_It was hard for Sibyl to believe that Tom wouldn't care about her comfort or nerves but Sibyl's friend Sarah had told her that husbands tended to be different people in the bedroom than the charming suave gentlemen they had thought they married. _

_Tom felt her stiffen as he came up behind her and placed his lips on her neck. "I love you Tom" Branson could hear the tremor in her voice. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" he rubbed her shoulders reassuringly, knew she must be slightly nervous about what they would be doing, hell he was nervous too. She turned in his arms. "I'm just nervous." She whispered unsure he had even heard it. But he had, "Is that why you're so tense? What are you so nervous about?" Sibyl couldn't look him in the eyes, she strategically adverted her gaze to the small table and chairs on the far end of the flat. _

"_I don't know- I mean I don't understand- Mama said she would explain when I was older but then…I just don't rightly know what's expected of me." She cried. "Oh Sibyl" He tightened his hold on his wife, he truly could not understand the aristocracy, how could they not explain to her something as important as procreation? _

_"Don't cry darling! We don't have to do anything tonight, I promise you." But she shook her head vehemently "I want to make you happy Tom, I just don't know how to and I don't wish it to be terribly painful…" _

"_It's only painful for a few moments and only the first time, but after that it's brilliant. I'd only ever want you to be comfortable, love." Sibyl trusted Tom like he trusted her, so if he was convinced that she would enjoy herself, she believed him. _

"_Show me." She whispered into his warm neck. _

_True to his word Tom made her feel brilliant, it truly was a wonderful introduction to the marriage bed, which Sibyl had so feared._

X X X

Sibyl woke up smiling after her dream about her wedding night. She reached over to embrace her husband, only to remember he hadn't slept next to her in nearly five months.


	5. Chapter Five

**AN: Thank you to ****bijou156! And Jane Eyre for finally being useful for something…**

_October 1914_

It all began in late autumn 1914; the war had already taken many eligible young men all over England but thankfully had left Downton's men reasonably alone. Branson thanked God daily he hadn't yet been drafted. It wasn't that he didn't want to or was scared to fight (well honestly a little) but he was terrified that if he was send to war, he would never be able to see Lady Sibyl ever again. Yes, a war with Germany was simply an unnecessary sabbatical from Sibyl Crawley. Let the rich play their silly games over in Europe, he was content to be here defending Lady Sibyl from rioters.

Because of the resent onslaught of cold weather, not many people driving to or out of Downton, so Branson was living the easy life. He would spend most of his days reading books from Lord Crawley's collection or writing letters home to Dublin.

Today was an exceptionally warm day in October, his Lordship, his wife and daughter Edith were spending the day at Sir Anthony Strallan's home, while Lady Mary was spending her day at Crawley House, which left Lady Sibyl the only Crawley home.

While taking a walk around the garden, Branson noticed the youngest Crawley sister lounging on a bench reading.

"Mighty fine to see you here Lady Sibyl!"

He saw her jump slightly, "Branson, you scared me! I thought I was alone here." He felt crestfallen "If you want me to leave milady –"

"Oh no Branson, I don't mind at all! Please sit down!" She set aside her book and patted the spot next to her. "How have you been getting on milady?" She desperately wished for him to call her Sibyl but she knew that would be expressly pushing boundaries that were not meant to be pushed. "I've been well, albeit a bit bored. And yourself?"

"A bit bored me self as well, I've been doing a bit of writing home though." Sibyl placed her hand on his arm, "And how is your family Branson?" He shrugged "Getting on, ma's been a bit sick but nothing terrible and my brother's getting married in the spring." Sibyl smiled jovially "That's wonderful Branson! Give him my congratulations!"

"I will milady"

A silence fell upon them then with neither party allowing themselves to say what they so desperately wished to. It was Branson who spoke first, "What's that you're reading?" not wanting to waste his precious alone time with her. "It's _Jane Eyre, _I've read it before but I never appreciated it before now. It has stimulated some very interesting topics of debate."

"I've yet to read it but I'd love to hear some of your points." He gave her a charming smile that made her suddenly nervous and giddy all at the same time. "Well most of the book revolves around Jane a poor girl who works as a governess and falls in love with the lord of the house but they cannot truly be together until they both are equals both socially and economically." Branson couldn't help but hope that there was a double meaning in her words. "And how, milady, would that be possible?" he asked pointedly. "Well in their case, Mr. Rochester loses much of his fortune and Jane gains some of her own." Branson felt dejected, he had no fortune to gain and it was doubtful she would lose hers now that Matthew was to marry her sister. "And I suppose it also helps that she also accepts the fact that society will talk about her but she wishes to be with the man she is in love with anyways." She looked cogently at Branson.

"And what of Mr. Rochester, what does he think?"

"He simply doesn't care he just wants to be with her."

It was then Branson realized how close she had drawn to him, in only a small move of his head, he could be kissing Sibyl Crawley! He panicked, did she want this? Was it worth the risk?

But then she said it. She leaned ever closer to his mouth and whispered; "Tom" and he knew he couldn't resist her.

Sibyl couldn't get a grip on reality, she had never been kissed romantically before and Branson- no Tom was just so wonderful. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him even more passionately than she had before. Society be damned, she was in love with him!

They were suddenly ripped from their dream world when there was a large crashing noise. "WILLIAM!" she yelped, seeing the boy was more terrified then she was.

"I'm so- I'm so s-s-sorry Miss, I didn't know you two were there- and, um, and-"By that time Branson was already on his feet walking determinedly over to William. "You can't say anything about this okay, William? It's of the upmost importance." William nodded fervently and left in a hurry. Branson smoothed out his hair then shoved his hands deep in his pocket. What in the bloody hell was he going to do now?


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Sorry this took so long and thanks to my beta ****bijou156. **

**November 1916 **

Marriage and motherhood had calmed Lady Edith significantly.

Marriage had taught Edith the need for partnership and cooperation but motherhood had taught her love; true, unconditional, irrational love. Edith loved Georgiana more than anything or any person in the world. It was strange she had always been told that a son was desired and a son was needed and she wouldn't be happy until she had a son, but in all honesty she couldn't care less about having a son when she had her precious daughter to care for. Anthony was a bit different, while it was evident that he cared for his young daughter, he just didn't seem that interested in her. The most contact he had ever had with her was after he came home and Edith would bring her into the drawing room where he would inquire about Georgiana's day, then pat her on curly blonde locks and she would be sent off. Although she hoped this routine would change once Anthony came home from battle next month.

Edith sighed as she heard her parents arguing in their room again as she passed to go the nursery. It was sad, why couldn't they put this whole Sybil incident behind them? It was done and there was nothing they could do anymore, they were married and had a child on the way. Why were her father and Mary insisting on dragging out the matter?

When Sibyl had first eloped with Branson, Edith had been livid and horrified that she would taint the family name. Then she was happy that Sibyl wasn't around to steal attention from her. But now she just felt sad, sad that her sister was forced to close between love and family. Edith clutched Georgiana tighter to her, suddenly glad they were only staying a few days.

"Lady Strallan" Edith looked up at Francine, Georgiana's nurse "I'll take her, it's time for supper."

Edith took one last look at her darling daughter before handing her over.

XXX

_**June 1916 **_

Sybil was in shock.

She knew she had been sick for a while, but never in a million year would she have ever guessed this, this amazing, extraordinary, terrifying thing. Pregnant, she Sybil Branson was pregnant. She felt her heart swell with love the way it only ever did for Tom. It was hard to believe that she already felt such deep love for something she just found out existed.

What would Tom think? They had discussed children briefly, both agreeing that children were wanted but neither of them specified when. Now was such a bad time, they were struggling to make ends meet with both of them working and the war still ravaged Europe offering nothing but an unstable future. Still she was so blissful, she practically skipped all the way home.

Once there she floated through her normal chorus with an unusual gusto. It was true she wasn't a huge fan of house work but it only made sense since she did it, seeing as she worked significantly less than Tom did. That was not to say he didn't help out when he had the time and energy. Sybil quickly threw together Tom's favorite potato soup, it was a bit late in the season for it but it matter to her, she wanted him completely content when she told him about their baby.

XXX

It was ten o'clock, ten goddamn o'clock at night and Tom had yet to come home. Sybil was worried sick, literally. There were many times she was tempted to go down to the docks to find him before chastising herself for thinking about putting herself and the baby in danger.

Finally Tom walked in the door.

"Where have you been!" she cried half out of concern, half out of anger. Tom simply ignored her and brushed past her to hang up his cap walking dementedly to the kitchen, where he pulled out the only liquor that they kept in the house and cracked it open. "Tom! What is the meaning of this?" She walked determinedly over to her husband and grabbed the whiskey out of his hands. He stared at her for a second before handing her a heavy letter. "A late wedding present, courtesy of the British government." His words were uncharacteristically dry and humorless. She frowned at him for a moment, not comprehending his meaning before examining the envelope.

Realization dawned on her and she dropped the letter and all its contents on the floor. "Oh Tom!" she cried rushing to embrace her husband, temporarily putting aside her fury when she saw how afraid he was.

Draft card!

Draft card!

Draft card!

Her mind replayed the horrible truth over and over until she could no longer stand it. The war suddenly became all too real for her. She pulled her husband closer into her embrace, feeling him shake faintly. Could she tell him now? Would it distract him? Well surely she couldn't let him come to a baby when he had absolutely no idea one existed in the first place. She felt him squeeze her tighter, "_it can wait until later tonight._" She concluded.

"Tom?" she asked once they had both calmed significantly, "Why were you so late?" she stroked his blonde hair as his head rested in her lap. "Trouble at work again" he sighed "And after I got that," he gestured to the letter sitting on the table. "I couldn't come home immediately, I had to, well think things through." He said softly. "I'm sorry if I upset you, sweetheart. You've every right to be upset with me."

Sybil thought about it for a second, was she really still upset about the incident? Yes, but it could wait for tomorrow, tonight was a night for comfort. Instead of answering him, she leaned down and kissed him then stood. "Come on, it's late we should get to bed." She led him by the hand into their bedroom but sleeping was the last thing on either of their minds. Once they climbed into bed, they began to kiss again and after a few moments he shyly stroked the skin underneath her breast, his timid way to indicate his wish to make love to her, which she course heartily agreed to.

It was fast but passionate, Sybil's toes curled with pleasure as she reached her feminine pleasure. Tom reluctantly rolled to the side but pulled his beautiful wife into his arms and buried his head into her neck. She giggled as he tickled her neck with his soft kisses, "Tom!" she laughed delicately. "Tom!" she laughed nervously. "Yes, sweetheart?" he asked lightheartedly, despite all that he had gone through today, he still was incredibly happy when he was holding his wife.

"Tom I have something to tell you." He noted the serious tone in her voice, Sybil sat up and Tom followed in suit. "What is it Sybil?" he stroked her arms tenderly, but she wouldn't look at him. "It's not that easy, I don't think you'll be happy about in light of the circumstances, I think you'll be rather upset." Tom's brows knitted together, "I'm sure it will be fine Sybil." He lifted her chin and looked her directly in the eyes. After a deep breath she finally spoke, "I'm pregnant."

This utterly caught him off guard. Pregnant, a baby, fatherhood, he Tom Branson was going to be a father, the father of a child that his wife was going to have. Incoherent thoughts passed through his head for another minute or so before realizing he hadn't said anything. He pulled her into a tight hug, "Jesus Christ Sybil, of course I'm happy, I'm so damn happy!" He pulled away to kiss his wife passionately. He pulled away reluctantly when he saw tears running downs her face. "What's wrong darling?" he asked concerned, she shook her head and smiled. "I'm happy too."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry for such a wait, school just started! Quick name guide for those who don't speak Irish: Niall (Neil), Eoghan (Owen), Aibhlinn (Ave-leen). Thanks a million to my beta bijou156!**

December, 1914

Sibyl gripped the railings until her knuckles paled, it was not every day you meet your future in-laws. The nearer the port came, the more her worries mounted. What would they think about her? Would they mind that she was English? Would they like her? She had already forsaken any relationship with her own family so she was dependent upon her relationship with the Branson family. Sibyl felt warmth envelope her and Tom wrapped his jacket around her slight shoulders. She turned somewhat to face him, while brushing hair out of her damp face.

"You're gonna catch a death out here, Sibyl!" Tom chastised lightly, she mumbled a faint 'sorry', she hadn't even noticed she was cold until he had given her his jacket. Tom frowned; he was not ignorant to why she was troubled. He ran his hands down her arms in a soothing manner, "My family will love you, so you shouldn't worry yourself sick." He tried to pull her close but she jerked away.

"I've already given up on my own family Tom, so yours is all I have left!" she snapped. Tom sighed he really was experiencing Sibyl in a whole new way, the good and the bad. Living in close quarters with someone will teach you many things you didn't know about them, their mannerisms, likes and dislikes on everyday matters, what they eat, how they go about their day. It was strange for Tom to see the

former Lady Sibyl like this but not always unpleasant, he felt he understood her better.

Sibyl sighed and cast her eyes to the sea once more. "I'm sorry Tom." She whispered, not looking him in the eye. Tom wrapped her in a tight embrace, realizing that there was nothing he could say to easy her nerves. Pulling from his hold she leaned over the ship's railing, studying the rough sea waves.

"Is it nice?" she asked suddenly, Tom gave her a confused glance. "Is what nice?" He leaned over the railing in a likewise manner. "Ireland" she didn't fail to notice the dreamy look he got in his eyes when she mentioned his homeland. "It's a bit green and it rains more often than not," he gave her a playful wink. "but it's home and I love it." She couldn't help the small smile that adorned her face.

XXX

After a short respite, Tom Branson took one final breath before knocking on the door of his childhood home, Sibyl's hand clasped tightly with in his own. Before Sibyl had time to collect herself the door flew open.

"Jaysus Christ, Tom!" a young man, no older than Sibyl herself had flung the door open and embraced Tom in a brotherly manner. The boy was a few inches taller than Tom and far thinner, the boys shared the same mischievous glimmer in their blue eyes. "Good God look at ya Eoghan! You're so tall!" The boy, Eoghan chuckled "Mam tells me every day that I'm eatin' them out of house and home." It was

then he noticed the young woman standing apprehensively behind his brother.

"And who might this be, eh Tom?" Eoghan grabbed Sibyl's hand and brought it to his lips but Tom smacked his hand away. "Don't be touching my fiancé!" He tightened his grip on Sibyl. "Sibyl this is my brother Eoghan, Eoghan this is my fiancé Sibyl Crawley."

Eoghan's eyes widened but he held his tongue. "Nice to meet you Miss Crawley!" he shook her hand politely, hiding his shock. "Why don't ya come inside? It's freezin'" Tom squeezed her hand tenderly and led her inside the cottage.

"Mam! You best be coming down here! There's someone here to see ya!" Sibyl felt her stomach knot once again.

"Mam!" Eoghan shouted, Sibyl heard delicate footsteps descend the stairs before a thin blonde haired woman appeared on top of the stairs. "There's no need for shoutin' and screamin' Eoghan I heard you the first time!" Cathleen Branson smacked her son on the back of the head. "Mam look who's here!" Cathleen rounded the corner and ran to embrace her son. "Oh Tom we were so worried when your letters stopped last month!"

"Don't ya ever do that to me again, do ya hear me boy?" She smacked him in a similar manner as his brother "I expect that kind of behavio_u_r from that one over there" she gestured toward Eoghan "but not from you! Oh lord Tom I'm so glad you're home!" she embraced her son again. "Mam, there's someone I want you to meet." Tom helped Sibyl to her feet. "Mam this is my fiancé Sibyl Crawley."

Cathleen looked between her son and Sibyl before slumping into a chair. "Oh Jaysus Christ Tom Cillian Branson, what have you done?" Sibyl felt her heart drop, Cathleen turned to her. "Are ye in trouble Miss Crawley?" Both Tom and Sibyl were scarlet at the accusation. "No, mam of course not! I would never-"

"Shut your mouth boy, I want to hear it from Miss Crawley!"

Sibyl almost chocked on her mortification. "No, Mrs. Branson I'm in no kind of trouble I assure you." Sibyl felt as if she would just die of humiliation at any moment. Cathleen crossed herself in relief "Thank God!" She went over and hugged Sibyl firmly "I'm sorry Miss Crawley-"

"No please call me Sibyl, Mrs. Branson." The older woman smiled, Sibyl was still bright in the face. "I meant not to embarrass you Sibyl; I just wanted to make sure my son was taking care of ya." She patted the young woman's shoulder before walking to the kitchen to make a pot of tea.

"I'm so sorry about that Sibyl." He whispered into her ear, she shook her head vehemently and smiled up at him. "It's nothing Tom, don't worry about it."

Eoghan was still cackling in the corner when Cathleen called them into the kitchen. "Now" she said as she placed the steaming cups in front of them "someone explain to me what's going on." So they did, they told Cathleen Branson everything, from their extensive talks about politics, to pleading their case to deaf ears at Downton. "Well, that's an unfortunate story." She said compassionately, "I suppose you have no choice but to stay with us then." She smiled and patted Sibyl on the knee and proceeded to start preparing dinner for the lot of them.

"Is there anything I can help with Mrs. Branson?" Sibyl felt bad she wasn't useful. "No of course not darlin' I won't have a guest lift a finger."

"Cathleen I'm home!" a man's sonorous voice filled the tiny kitchen. "Declan is here too." Niall Branson walked into the room. "Cathleen-" he stopped dead in his tracks. "Who's that?" he gestured to Sibyl.

Niall was a stern man from Kerry; he had known nothing but a hard life, so when he talked he got straight to the point.

Tom stood to greet his father. "Da, this is Sibyl Crawley my fiancé." It seemed to Tom as if it was the hundredth time today he had, had to introduce her. "Is she-" but Tom interrupted him before he could finish. "No Da, she's not in trouble." Niall gave his son a severe look before smirking and clapping him on the back. Sibyl quietly examined the man as he lit his pipe; he bore a striking resemblance to Tom while

Eoghan looked much more like his mother.

"Cathleen, where's Aibhlinn?" Niall inquired. "She's been watchin' the O'Connor children today, she should be back within the hour." Niall's brows furrowed. "I'll send Eoghan to go pick her up; I don't want her walkin' by herself in the dark." He took a deep puff of his pipe. "Da, Sibyl and I can go get her. It's just up the road and it will be a good time to show her the village." The older Branson nodded at this

idea. "Fine, just don't take too long, it looks like rain."

Tom took her arm and escorted Sibyl in the cool evening air, "I think they're rather taken with you, love." Tom squeezed her hand lovingly, Sibyl smiled up at him. "I hope so Tom, I hope so."


End file.
